


Stories of the Second Self: First Year of Forever, Dale Groneck Journal Entry

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [20]
Category: Urban Fantasy - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22513912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: Like other early vampires of Alter Idem, Dale Groneck just died and awoke three days later. Realizing he'd have a lot of time to reflect on, Dale began a journal but would only had one entry per year.
Series: Alter Idem [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: First Year of Forever, Dale Groneck Journal Entry

Never thought there was so much trouble being dead or undead or whatever the hell they call it. Legally deceased is one pain in the ass. Had to have my sister sign off as executor of my estate to become "president" of what is now a personal corporation.

At least I don't have to deal with the U.S. Bureau of Pentacaste Affairs. However, I also have fewer legal protections than other supernaturals do. I don't Open Feed, so police don't have an excuse to burn me with UVC lights, but that could still happen. Fudge the paperwork and it becomes a closed case. No longer having DNA sounds great for getting away with crime, but it's also easier for cops or anyone else to erase my ass, even if it's without reason.

Getting blood via legal means is hard though. The vast majority of vampires have some signs of sociopathy or psychopathy, officially diagnosed or not. For all of us, emotions are mental only without the hormonal flood through our half empty veins.

I have the perfect physique, but no urge to let a woman run her hands all over it. No need to use bathrooms anymore, but damn if I don't miss coffee and the occasional drink at the bar. Not only do I miss good food, I miss enjoying the smell of it. I've gone around ten days without blood, but it's miserable. Growing weaker by the day, and I never experienced a true anguish of hunger while alive.

You see, the only thing our bodies don't violently react to is other human cells, though that can include werewolves, Fae, giants, and angels. Our digestive tract goes from the stomach right around into a heart that has no beat. Liver, pancreas, both intestines, colon, even the bladder atrophied for lack of use. It give you a great waistline, but that's small comfort to always been held in suspicion by everyone, even friends and family.

Night times are alright, because I can see perfectly. Both the infrared and ultraviolet are visible, so there's no such thing as total darkness anymore. I can even choose to watch the sunrise or sunset if I'm covered up with tight-weave fabrics and wearing my polarized face shield. Yet, it's not the same. Rather than basking in the sun's warmth, I get the sense of a huge gun barrel, combination blowtorch in my face, just waiting to cook me the moment there's a crack in the armor.

I got into a few fights, sometimes firearms were involved. It still hurts being shot and stabbed, and injures just don't heal unless I feed. Tougher skin and bones are a good thing, but once bruised, cut, or broken they hurt just as bad.

This one time, I got into it with a giant, and I'm not exaggerating the giant part. Easily fourteen feet tall, the guy just didn't like me being around and decided to do something about it. Doesn't matter that he started it, when cops arrived I was automatically the suspect. No one came to my defense in explaining the fight details, but without anyone to say I started it, the cops let me off with a warning.

So, here I stand on a street corner like a reversed dealer, waiting for someone, anyone willing to sell blood to me. Most pass by, and a few threaten me. Ever since that park shooting where a vampire went after a couple of the survivors, one of us ends up in the paper's crime and punishment section.

Vampires are both hated and feared by people on whom we absolutely depend. We're not top tier predators. We've become true parasites, almost universally loathed and distrusted. Those who admire or envy us eventually grow frustrated that we don't know how to turn them.

Everyday is an inner debate about whether I should walk out into the daylight uncovered. Not today, though. I still have a couple Netflix shows I have to binge-watch after work.


End file.
